


Paranoia

by anw1998



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Bottom GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Enemies to Lovers, Hunter GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), M/M, Manhunt Universe, Minecraft, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Top Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Villain GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 12:47:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30122979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anw1998/pseuds/anw1998
Summary: "Drop your weapons," Dream breathed into his ear. He held the dagger up to George's throat and the smaller began to struggle into his hold. "Drop your fucking weapon, George."His sword fell to the ground along with the crossbow that he carried on the back. It was dead silent while other hunters walked past catching a glimpse of the two hidden in the small cave. He was almost caught, he almost died—yet, he had another problem: he didn't know what to do with his new hostage.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 51





	Paranoia

**Author's Note:**

> hello!! i hope u enjoy my manhunt fic :) kudos and comments are greatly appreciated as well as theories of what's to come next ;) thanks so much for reading!!

His breath caught the back of his throat as he leaned against the large oak tree. He pulled the large mask from his forehead and tossed it to the side as his hair fell to his shoulders; he was completely drenched in sweat. How long had he been running for? He couldn’t remember. As long as their voices weren’t behind him, he was fine—he didn’t have to keep running. With a sigh, he collapsed underneath the tree and pulled out his canteen, drinking the last of his water and leaving himself unsatisfied.

“Fuck,” he whispered to himself and let the container drop to the ground next to the mask.

He would have to find another village nearby or else he wouldn’t be able to go on for much longer. His materials were running low, and he was only a quarter into his long journey. If that weren’t enough, he had four others hunting him down until he laid dead in their hands. He just had to outrun them instead.

“Still alive, Dream,” he muttered to himself.

_Dream_ , that was the name he gave himself after leaving his old life behind. It felt more prosperous, it gave him hope that he could one day dream of a better future. He had already made it that far already and he wasn’t coming to a stop anytime soon—not even with the four others chasing after him. Dream was going to reach the end.

After a few more minutes of catching his breath and wiping the sweat from his forehead, he stood up from the ground with a grunt. If he weren’t mistaken, there would be a larger village to the east not too far from the forest—at least, that’s what the map showed from the last town he came from. He just hoped that the hunters weren’t heading in that direction as well. Either way, he needed a disguise to collect the materials he could get his hands on.

_And maybe an inn for the night would be nice._

“Just a little longer,” he tried to encourage himself. His fingers gripped the canteen and shoved it back into the bag wrapped around his torso. He pulled his hair back and slipped the mask back on.

He was off again.

He trudged along with the thick trees once more with his heavy breath trailing behind him. The birds were singing in the trees and the wind was flowing through the leaves—it was only him in that forest. It was a little relieving since he was already feeling the effects of exhaustion creeping on him. He wanted to stop and take shelter for the night, but he knew that if he did, dehydration would kill him faster than the four men hunting him would.

An hour’s time later and Dream finally stepped out of the forest and eyed the outskirts of the rather large village. Immediately, he could smell the aroma of the restaurants cooking, causing his mouth to water and nearly enticing an audible moan. However, before heading straight into the village, Dream sat down in the grass and pulled his bag off of his chest.

With no one around, he ripped the mask from his face once more and dug into the bag until retrieving a hair tie. He then exchanged the elastic for the mask and began to pull his hair back until a bun perched on the back of his head. In a way, it was his disguise; thankfully, the hunters never managed to get a glance of Dream where they could distinguish him fully.

He stood up from the grass, wiping his pants from the dirt and loose pieces of grass, then finding himself walking towards the smell of dishes in the air. The last proper meal he ate had to been days ago; for the last week, he had been nibbling off the same piece of bread and a few apples he stored in his bag before starting his journey. Dream just hoped that he had enough money to keep him going to the end.

“Excuse me,” Dream muttered once he stepped into town. “Could you tell me where to find a blacksmith?”

“Head straight until you see the fountain, then turn right and you’ll find it,” the man told him.

He thanked the man and continued on, ignoring the grumbling from his stomach. The first thing he had to buy was a better weapon—his current stone axe was nearly at its breaking point and had already gone dull after using it constantly. A nice iron one combined with a shield would have him set until the end.

After following the villager’s advice, Dream found himself stood in front of the blacksmith. Smoke was pouring out from the chimney and the smell of burning furnaces crept into his nose, the sweet scent of smelting. The door’s bell jingled when he walked in, finding a woman hammering at a long golden sword; she turned his attention towards Dream, nodding her head and putting the hammer to the side.

“What can I help you with, sir?”

Dream looked around at the weapons mounted on the wall, humming softly. “I’m looking for an iron axe—something that will last quite a while. Could you help me find something like that?”

The woman wiped the sweat off of her forehead before placing her hands on her hips. “I’ve got tons of axes—are you sure you’re not looking for a sword? I could see you wielding a nice thin sword; I made one just this morning. Would you like to see it?”

“I feel more confident with an axe, I’ve used one since I was fifteen,” he shuffled his feet. “I wouldn’t be turned away from the idea, however.”

She gave Dream a smile and led him outside the back area where scrap metal laid, and unfinished products sat around in the dirt. In the vat of water, she pulled out a long thin sword that looked awfully sharp; Dream furrowed his eyebrow and watched as she wiped the water off the blade, feeling hesitant.

“Here,” she handed the blade to him. “See how it feels—it’s like an extension of your arm. You are the weapon.”

Dream outstretched his arm, careful to wave it around. He took a step back and sliced at the air; it was much lighter than an axe and had a better reach. It felt nice in his hand except for the handle that didn’t sit right into his hand. What would be helpful in the long run? What would better defend himself? He would have to learn how to wield a sword.

“It’s definitely lighter,” he told the blacksmith. “Although, the handle doesn’t sit right in my hand. What’s the price difference between this and the axe?”

She hummed and walked closer to take a look at the handle. “I could fix the handle and have it ready by the morning. The sword would definitely be the cheaper option: fifteen emeralds at least. My axes start at twenty.”

He gave the woman the weapon back and reached into his bag to pull out his coin sack. Biting the inside of his cheek, he pulled out the coins and handed them to her. He would have to conserve the rest of his emeralds after the night.

“I’ll take the sword instead,” he told her.

She grinned and held up the sword. “I’ll have this ready in the morning. Pleasure doing business with you.”

Thanking the woman, Dream left the blacksmith while looking inside his money sack; he only had enough emeralds to tie him down until the end. As long as he conserved his food, he would be able to sleep at an inn and feed himself by the morning. Dream just wanted to relax for one night—that’s all he asked.

_One night._

Down at a tavern, Dream sat with a beverage in hand and staring out at the fountain below the deck. After the sunset, the village became beautiful lit up; in the distance, the sound of the river running south could be heard very slightly. There weren’t many moments where Dream could sit back and enjoy his surroundings—he always had to be on high alert and listen for sounds of his upcoming death.

However, he felt at peace for the night, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to have another night to sit back and relax with others surrounding him and hearing conversations coming from many directions. To his right, sat four others who had a drink in their own hands and speaking closely to one another. On the other side, sat a young couple who were smiling at each other with their fingers intertwined and sharing a batch of fries.

His hands curled up into his fist as he frowned slightly at the sensation. He couldn’t be loved—not with his lifestyle; he wouldn’t be able to settle down, and if he did, he would be dead. Instead of dreaming about a quaint life of living in the countryside with a loved one, Dream had to vison his objective and life after that.

There was no way that he would be able to live after the end.

“Excuse me, sir,” a voice caught his attention. Turning his head to the side, he caught a glance at the group of four staring at him. They all had distinct features: one had a bandana wrapped around his forehead, another with a mask in the shape of a cat, a hood covering one of them, and the last one with glasses perched on top of his head with a determined look on his face.

_Why did he have a gut-wrenching feeling in his stomach?_

“How can I help you guys?” He replied while turning his body in their direction. As he took a sip of his drink, he could feel his heart picking up a pace—why did it feel like he had been caught already?

The one with glasses held up a piece of napkin with a drawing sketched into it; it resembled the back of someone’s body with a crossbody hanging from his shoulders. Distinguishably, he could see just the outline of a mask and the strap drawn around the hood of the jacket drawn on the figure. Dream sucked in a breath of air. It had to be him.

“By chance, have you seen this man around the village?” Glasses boy asked.

He blinked slowly. Was it a trick? Should he already be on his feet and dashing out of town? He couldn’t move his feet—he was frozen from fear.

Dream swallowed back and opened his mouth to speak. “Don’t think I have. Is he a friend of yours?”

Bandana boy scoffed. “ _Like hell he is._ We’ve got a bounty on him—been chasing him for days and all we’ve managed to make out has been the back of his body.”

“Thank you, anyway,” the cat-masked one replied. “Sorry to interrupt your evening.”

The four then turned back to face each other while quietly conversing; Dream turned back to the fountain, unable to stop the shaking coming from his hand. He quickly shoved it under the table and in between his thighs as an audible sigh left his mouth.

He met the hunters.

Time had passed and Dream kept his gaze on the running water. He couldn’t turn his body back at the four to his right; he absolutely couldn’t risk being caught. Any wrong move could be deemed suspicious, and his head would be in their hands. All of his materials were stashed in the inn underneath the bed for safekeeping, he had absolutely no way to defend himself. He knew for damn sure that he wasn’t leaving behind without acquiring a stronger weapon.

“Actually, I’m sorry to bother you again, but,” Glasses boy spoke up. The hairs on Dream’s back stood up and he didn’t turn his head. The man walked over and sat across from him, smiling softly. “Do you mind if I have a drink with you?”

Dream glanced over at the others, seeing that they had disappeared. Was it a setup all along?

He was fucked over.

Either the pretty boy was making a move, or the others were waiting for the right moment to strike.

Taking a sip of his drink for liquid courage, he nodded. “Be my guest.”

**Author's Note:**

> [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/anw1998) | [twitter](https://twitter.com/anw__1998)


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